


Cinderfella

by thedevil_andgod



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pining, Reader Insert, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3920344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevil_andgod/pseuds/thedevil_andgod





	Cinderfella

Request; Pietro falls for Tony's sister after he moves into the Tower, going to Clint for advice on how to deal with his feelings. 

'I'm (Y/N) Stark. Tony's sister, nice to meet you.' 

It's unbelievable, Pietro thinks with a shake of his head. How nine little words could take the ground and shake it up, split it apart and cause you to go spiralling downwards with no end in sight. You introduced yourself with nine little words, (Y/E/C) eyes warm and welcoming as your slim (Y/S/T) hand reached for his. He had shaken it politely, mumbling a stuttered reply, cheeks flooding with colour. 

Tony had sent both twins a warning glare when his younger sister met them, and gave a stern order that was not to be ignored.   
'No one touches my sister. Break her heart, I'll break your neck. Got it?' 

Pietro shudders as he remembers the threatening words, heart pounding roughly against his ribs. Against his better judgement, he has, of course, fallen, and fallen hard, for you. With every smile you sent his way, every kind word, every tight hug, every peal of laughter that bubbled up from your chest had factored into the rapid escalation of his emotions. Upon first meeting you, your pretty face and intelligent eyes had caught his attention. With soft, (Y/S/T) skin, bright (Y/E/C) eyes and pale lips, full and soft and smooth, it had taken all his effort to not trip over his feet as he moved towards you.   
Now, he has gotten to know you, your strong personality, your brash sense of humour, your compassion and unbreakable loyalty to the Avengers. He was undeniably head over heels for you, and was completely clueless as tho how to go about acting on his feelings. 

He turns to Hawkeye, and after he has finished laughing his old ass off, he finds that the archer has some very sound advice to give. 'Just talk to her. Get her to laugh, spend time with her. Tell her how you feel. But don't just go.. Don't just go running into the lab screaming 'I AM SO IN LOVE WITH YOU MARRY ME RIGHT NOW AND HAVE MY BABIES', okay? That tends to freak a girl out. Not that I know, from experience or anything.' Barton coughs and ducks his head, and blatantly ignores the next question Pietro poses. 'Is that what you did, the first time you fell in love?'   
'Look, just go down there, and talk to her. Tell her how you feel, because it'll just get harder to hide. She's literally the only person here who is still utterly oblivious, being honest, kid? You make it pretty obvious anyway. You just gotta find a way to make it obvious to her.'   
Pietro folds his arms across his chest and glares defensively. 'I do not make it obvious!' Barton laughs as the Sokovian speedster scowls. 'You go bright red whenever she speaks to you. Hell, you practically stop breathing whenever she's anywhere near you. Pretty obvious.'   
Pietro stalks away, leaving Barton to fold in on himself with laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his face.   
Stupid Barton. 

Down in the lab, you were working away with some new project. You can't say you were interested in it, as the only thing moving around your mind is a certain speedster with silver hair and the bluest eyes to ever exist.   
Pietro, Pietro Maximoff. You sigh, wishing that your feelings weren't so intense. It hadn't been hard to fall for the Sokovian boy, with his wit as quick as his feet and that smile which could light up the world if it's power was harnessed. He's gorgeous, kind, intelligent, protective, funny and sweet. In short, your perfect guy. You know there's no way he'd ever feel like you were his perfect girl, though. He's a superhero, dammit. He has better options to pick from than silly human girls, you think sorrowfully. You're just that- an ordinary, boring human. Clever? Yes. Good with technology? Oh, please. Good is an understatement - you're the best, though you'd never like to believe that for fear of growing conceited.   
Apart from your achievements in the lab, you had nothing to boast about. Attending social events with Tony, you'd never once been referred to by your own name. It was always 'that's Tony Starks sister!' Or, 'isn't she related to Iron Man?' It was extremely frustrating, although you hid your annoyance well. You didn't want to come off as being bitter or jealous, you weren't. Tony being Iron Man had simply been a way of making the best out of a bad situation. He was dying, closer to death than life - a thought that still terrifies you, even now - and it was only with the help of the arc reactor that he had survived. Instead of wallowing, becoming self conscious of the bright, glowing piece of robotics implanted into his chest, Tony did what Starks do best - use the situation to make yourself stronger. 

You were incredibly proud of all he had done since becoming Iron Man, and especially since becoming an Avenger. You'd been working in the lab since you were old enough to tell a spanner from a screwdriver, and allowed yourself to feel a bit of self pride - just a little bit - to know that most of his new tech and about fifty percent of his latest suit were of your own original creation. 

Pietro would never be interested, though. Why would he? He saw the world turning, too slow, used to going fast, to constantly moving forwards. Why would he want to slow himself down for you?

As if on cue, the man himself suddenly appears behind the glass door, waving at you with an adorable grin spread across his face. You smile, unable to control the way your pulse quickens abnormally at the sight of him. He points at the door handle, a question. You beckon him in gladly, greeting him as nonchalantly as you can manage.   
'Hey, Silver.'  
'Hello, (Y/N)!'

Your eyes drift downwards as your nerves overcome you. Catching sight of his bare feet reminds you of something. 

'Hey, so, I was thinking about your, uh, your little problem.. With your shoes..' You trail off as you begin to root around in various drawers and boxes, searching for one of your newest projects. Pietro's bare feet were well accustomed to moving at an impossible speed, and the skin on his soles have grown hard and leathery to accommodate the friction of his skin against the ground. However, they were still vulnerable to bullets, cuts and subsequently infections. He would need protection for his feet when out on missions, but most shoes he'd attained since beginning his stay at the tower were worn out after the end of each mission. The soles would be riddled through with holes, his toes poking out through the top of the end of each runner. You were currently designing a pair that would survive even the roughest terrain, and hopefully be practically immune to all kinds of wear and tear. 

Hauling the plastic bag out of a drawer beneath your messy desk, you open it and carefully take out the shoes.   
They are silver and blue, with material soles - you haven't gotten around to reinforcing them just yet. You're still working out the theory of attaching vibranium to the bottom, you have a tiny supply of the metal and have to be one hundred percent sure that the meld will work before you set about finishing them up.   
Pietro picks up a shoe, admiring the silver embroidery and light blue colour matching his suit. 'They're not finished just yet, it will take maybe another week? Hopefully less, but I just need the time to make sure they're going to be wearable.' Your voice is heavy with apologies, but Pietro is smiling, like you have hung the stars along the ceiling and named each one after him.   
'You did not have to do this for me.' The gratitude is clear as crystal in his tone, as is the awe and wonder.   
You shrug, looking down to your hands and clasping them together anxiously. 'It's nothing. You deserve something nice to wear, can't risk our star athlete contracting gangrene. I doubt you'll be as fast as if you need one of your feet amputated.'   
He chuckles lightly and gently places the shoe down. Shuffling closer to you, his hand finds your bare arm, resting there for a few moments. 'Thank you.' He murmurs, and you can't stop the wide grin stretching across your face. Nor can you prevent the hot blush that seeps into your face as his fingers curl around your arm. Jumping back, hoping he will not have noticed, you take both shoes and motion for Pietro to sit.   
'Um, I just want to make sure they fit you alright. I can alter them now, while they're just material..'   
You take his ankle, sure that you imagine the slight hitch in Pietro's breath as your thumb rests against the prominent knob of bone just above his foot.   
Sliding the shoe on, you cautiously prod at the end to ensure that his toes are not squashed up.   
You glance up, surprised to find him smiling softly down at you. 'Feel okay?'   
'Feels perfect.' He whispers, and you freeze in position, suddenly losing all ability to speak, move, or think.   
Clearing your throat, you finally manage to stutter out the first sentence that floats to the forefront of your addled mind.   
'This is like reverse Cinderella.'   
Pietro's brow creases in confusion, but the smile never wavers from him lips. 'It's a fairytale.' You stand straight, your knees and back cracking at the joints as you do so. Stretching a little, you take great care in resealing the bag and putting it back where you got it. 'A fairytale?'   
Swallowing hard, you nod, and turn your head slightly to smile across the room. 'Yes. Maybe I'll tell it to you, someday.' 

Pietro is by your side before you can blink, shoulders tense and sapphire eyes wide, glittering like gemstones. 'Perhaps on a date?' He blurts out, in a rush, so fast you're not quite sure you understand.   
'On.. On a date?'   
He nods, holding his hands behind his back - a gesture that is an indication of anxiety.   
You make him anxious..?   
'A date. With you. And me.'   
Pietro nods again. His throat tightens as a wave of panic rises slowly. You don't like him. You don't like him. Stupid Barton. Stupid archer. Tell her your feelings, he said, just tell her, he said..

But then, you smile, and giggle. Your head is spinning slightly, as you move your lips to form a reply. 'I'd really, really like that, Pietro.'   
He stares for a moment, taking a little while to process the fact that _ohmygod, she said yES!_  
'Great! Great! I.. I um.. We could maybe go for a picnic, or.. Or maybe to the cinema? I don't really know how to do the whole dating thing, um..' He curses silently as he babbles on, making a fool of himself.   
You think it's the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life, seeing him stuttering nervously, trying to impress you.   
Surely he knows he's already done that, a thousand times over just by being himself?   
You cut him off by pressing a palm to his cheek. 'As long as it's you and me, I don't care where we are. We could watch a film in the home cinema here, if that's okay.' 

He inhales sharply and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. 'Yeah. Yeah, that's okay.'


End file.
